Connected by Colors & Shapes

Chapter 2

Jason POV~

As a product of an unsuccessful soulmate marriage, it's not hard to see why I never believed in the tattoo thing. I mean come on! It can't be that easy. Even if it was, where was my mom's new soulmate when my dad died? Did they know how much she was suffering? Would they have done anyhthing if they had? It didn't matter. They were too late anyway.

To my luck, the old bat wasn't into the whole thing either. On the other hand, Alfred was, too much even. Not even half my mark came in before he'd dragged me to the manor's library and started tossing me book after book. Never thought that I'd want to burn a book until that day. If I had known he cared so much, I would have done a better job at hiding it. Of course Bruce just had to point it out while we were changing for patrol. Even though I hated the ordeal, I couldn't bring myself to stop Alfred. I never asked him about his soulmate, didn't need to. I guess I picked up some of the old man's tricks.

My mark, or my partner's mark I guess, stretched from my right shoulder to my collarbone. It was a smooth, backwards s-looking shape. It thinned in the middle and had a small circle next to the bottom curl. What really stood out was the color. The s-shape was a calm yellow while the circle was an equally calm orange. According to Alfred, my soulmate was a happy and well-mannered person. They could also be short, which I still don't understand even with Alfred's reasoning.

This only made me hate that I was bonded even more. What would someone like this want to do with me? Wouldn't they be better off with someone else? I'd probably just bum them out with my sob story or irritate them with my attitude. Seriously, whose great idea was this anyway?!

It was best just to stay away. Which was harder than I thought. I'd felt a soft, warm sensation on my tattoo during a solo patrol. My curiosity got the best of me, and I was lead to a small house in one of Gotham's safer neighborhoods.  I'd never been in that area prior, and it actually didn't look so bad minus some trash here and there. After a minute of surveying the neighborhood's humble charm, I made my way to my soulmate's house. 

"Do I knock or something?" I thought aloud. " No! That would be stupid. It's 3 in the morning and I'm still in uniform."

So I opted with just climbing the tree near the window where the signal was the strongest. It seems weird thinking back, but I was an awkward teen so whatever. Once I was at the top, I peered into the dark room. At first, all I saw were some geeky posters, art supplies and a small shelf full of books and comics-at least we have that in common. Then I saw the bed which held an abnormal amount of pillows and blankets-seems like they like to be comfy. There was so much on the bed that I almost didn't see the small patch of curly, dark hair sticking out. I wasn't sure about what I was going to do next, but all plans were scrapped when I saw them shift out of the covers. I was blocks away before they could notice me.

I was pretty on edge after that. I managed to convince Bruce not to take us on any routes near their house. Heck, for about a year I avoided anyone with curly hair from a mile away. After a while, it became tiring, so I stopped. I figured that they might as well see what they're getting into. Well, that's what I thought before the incident.

When I came back, my mark had faded to where I could only see the outline. I knew that marks only faded when your soulmate died, but what happened when you died? What happened when you came back? Whatever it meant, I didn't have time to figure it out. I had plans and I doubted that whoever I was bonded to was willing to wait for me. I was sure that they'd move on.

Said plans didn't go how I expected or even wanted. Actually, nothing from my death until now has gone how I expected. There have been good times, bad times and worse times, but I got through them better once my tattoo fully returned. I also noticed that on my worst days I've felt comforted by more positive emotions that I doubt were even mine. Alfred said that it was most likely my soulmate's doing. . . the one I probably put through hell these last few years. They really are pretty great. . . I hope that they're alright.

I found myself back in Gotham on a solo mission. Alfred fixed up my old room. Dick and I talked from time to time. Tim helped me with some new gadgets. Damien only insulted me once a day and Bruce has only lectured me once so far. I was even getting along with all of Damien's pets, except Ace who keeps stealing my boots and leather jackets. Everything was going great! 

Then I saw a girl with curly hair standing her ground against a group of thugs with a wooden board in an alley. . .